


Touch

by girlingoldboots



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fantasy, Gen, Masturbation, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-01
Updated: 2011-09-01
Packaged: 2017-10-23 08:17:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/248143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlingoldboots/pseuds/girlingoldboots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sally pictures what Sherlock's touch is like. Written for thegameison_sh, cycle 3 round 4 on LiveJournal. The prompt given was '<i>phantom touch</i>'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Touch

**Author's Note:**

> Nothing to note, but if you're so inclined the tip jar is open:  
> [Buy Me a Coffee](https://ko-fi.com/A4012NV1)

His hands played over her body like he would on his beloved violin. Gently trailing down from cheek to neck to stomach, fluttering and teasing their way over her hips and bottom. Lips pressing to hers hard enough to leave a trace of bruising. Long fingers exploring and discovering places sensitive enough to make her cry out only to have her voice muffled by his mouth over hers.

The worst part was that the hands were relentless in their questing. Never giving her an option to reciprocate she felt as if she herself was nothing more than a violin incarnate, capable of only feeling and resonance.

As the hands and fingers continued their administrations, the feeling was shattered by the sound of her mobile phone ringing.

"Donovan." She answered.

"She's gone for the weekend and took the kids with her. Want to come over?" Anderson asked her. There was a tone in his voice that was assumptive of her jumping at his command.

Sally looked at her rumpled sheets and took a deep breath to steady her voice. She had a horribly long, over-worked and over-caffeinated day and just wanted to have a solitary wank and get some sleep. Apparently she wasn't even allowed that.

"No. I'm just going to get to bed." she replied. She suddenly was very tired of this routine in her life.

"No?" He sounded hurt. That was what suddenly pissed her off.

"I'm allowed to say no. If you don't like it go find someone else to cheat on your wife with." She disconnected the call and let the voice mail pick up when he tried calling back. The phone's silence meant that he took the hint.

Sighing she put on her nightshirt. She wiped off and tucked away her vibrator back in the end table drawers and settled back in to a fitful half-sleep. Where the hell had that fantasy of the Freak had come from? She wasn't attracted to him (she told herself). It was more of a wondering what it would be like to be with him. In actuality she knew that he'd probably rather dissect someone than fuck them.

He wasn't the only one who could deduce things. She knew from watching him that he was good with his hands. They'd be steady and sure without a tremor. One couldn't deny that he was an artist whether his tools were the bow, a scalpel, or the riding crop.

"Don't go there." she muttered to herself, not wanting to think about the possibilities of walking through the crazy patch.

Turning her pillow over to the cool side she closed her eyes to try and encourage sleep. There were things she'd like to do tomorrow such as put in a transfer request from Anderson for starters. However she knew she wouldn't do that anymore than admit to herself that she was envious of John Watson's place in the Freak's life. Tomorrow they would carry on as always and if she snapped at the Freak with more bite than usual she knew that he wouldn't notice or care.

Damn him.


End file.
